


Knight in Shining Armor

by CapNstuff



Series: Knight in Shining Armor [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Game of Thrones References, Jaime Lannister Lives, King's Landing (A Song of Ice and Fire), Kings & Queens, Knight Brienne of Tarth, Knights - Freeform, Medieval, Not Canon Compliant, Oberyn Martell Flirts, Oberyn Martell Lives, Reader-Insert, Swordfighting, Swords, The Red Keep (ASoIaF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapNstuff/pseuds/CapNstuff
Summary: You were the prized adopted daughter of house Lannister, destined to marry anyone Tywin sees fit. However, you’ve always wanted to become a knight—the appreciation of sword fighting was your passion. But conflict arises when your whole family was just itching to ruin your dreams by marrying you off to Dorne’s favorable prince.
Relationships: Oberyn Martell x Reader, Oberyn Martell/You
Series: Knight in Shining Armor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148027
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49





	Knight in Shining Armor

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter is basically just background. also idk if this is well conveyed at all but the reader is about five years younger than cersei and jamie and a year younger than tyrion. and please please send me any feedback you have! i hope you enjoy :)

You were currently deep amongst the forest with tall, dark stalks of wood towered around you. The slashes and clashes echoed off of your sword and into the deep fluorescent woods. Your chest heaved and huffed as you readied your stance again. Dirt and mud were crusted onto your armor, and your body was riddled in sweat and grime. 

Brienne swung her sword towards the left, and you blocked it, the rush that ran to your chest feeling enlightening. You swung yours in her direction, the clash of metal sprouting out into the air. Her armor blocked the main blow of your force but nonetheless sent her back a few paces. 

“My, My, you’re getting better and better.” You jumped at the sound of the voice behind you, but a smile made its way to your face as you realized who it was. There was a slight tease to your brother’s tone, a small glint in his eye as he sipped his wine. You flung off your helmet and let it clunk onto the ground, your body desperately aching for a break. 

You were adopted by the Lannisters when you were just five years old. The seemingly large castle and citizens of King’s Landing had been your people ever since then. While Jamie was out taking a ride around the next town over, he had found your small body wrapped up in a blanket on the side of the road. He bent down and inspected you, wondering who would dare leave a defenseless child just lying on the ground. You didn’t seem put off by him at all and babbled on about the flowers in the field. The vibrant colors of them all, and how they shined in the sunlight. 

He was about to leave you alone to go and search for your father or mother, but then your small hand wrapped around his finger. He looked down at you and immediately knew he was hooked. You had a bright smile on your face as you squeezed his finger. 

Secretly, he didn’t want a parent to come running after you, and he felt his heart inflate as no one came around. He took you back on his horse and carried you all the way back to King’s Landing and introduced you to the family as the new sister. 

And since then, you have been treated like a Lannister. Well, almost. Just by looking at you, everyone could tell that you weren’t blood-related. But, you still carried the famous Lannister name regardless of all else. Still, you were treated as an outcast quite often, and you weren’t even involved in the family business, either. 

Cersei, your only sister, always seemed to be the unpredictable ocean that ushered you to shore. One day she’s as calm as a sea, making sure your dresses matched that day and the pins in your hair were placed perfectly. Then the next day she’s as raging as waves crashing up against rocks while she spites you for your features being different than hers and would smirk at your sullen face.

Tywin, your father, made sure that you were always made aware of your original belongings. His eyes would look over you with pure animosity, picking and prodding at each flaw. He sometimes called you a peasant. He did so just to ensure you that you weren’t a priority in the family. He yelled at you quite often for not following his rules or for not being proper, especially when you wouldn’t marry other men. 

He had even yelled at Jamie for bringing you home and told him repeatedly that he should’ve left you on the side of the road. Jamie was honestly the same as Cersi, hot as a blazing sun and cold as a frozen lake. He seemed to follow every bit of her moods and tried his best to avoid you on the brisk days. 

The only person you could truly be yourself around without any repercussions was Tyrion. He also knew what it was like to be the black sheep of the family due to his condition and the blame for his mother’s death. The two of you had always confided in one another, even when you disagreed on certain matters. He was the only reason you hadn’t run away by this point. He had even been the sole person to cheer you on when you came to realize that the art of swords was your passion.

That was your favorite activity to partake in, the art of sword fighting. Ever since Jamie had shown off his collection of swords, you had been absolutely hooked. Jamie had laughed at your ambition and encouraged you until Tywin found out about it. Tywin, of course, had loathed it. He had banished you from all weapons and such alike. He wanted you to be a proper lady who crochets and properly sets up tea. That was never you, though.

When the young Brienne of Tarth came to the Red Keep in aid of a dispute between one of the seven kingdoms, your mouth hung open in surprise. No one had ever told you that women could be knights. No one had ever told you that you could be strong and built like she was. And ever since that day, Brienne had secretly promised to train you, and she kept that promise fifteen years later. 

“At least I dabble in the art, dear brother.” Tyrion tipped you a smile before offering you a chalice of wine. You graciously took it and chugged on the sweet berry substance, letting the sting of alcohol burn through you. 

“Ending the match so soon?” Brienne had also taken off her helmet, her sword back into her sheath. She had taken some of the wine as well, then scowling at the overly candied taste.

You narrowed your eyes at your friend, “I got you in that match fair and square.” The smile on your face brightened as she opened her mouth to bite another insult back at you. However, the light banter was soon ended by Tyrion clearing his throat.

“I’ve come here to warn you, sister. I was looking at some of father's letters, and he had been exchanging some of them with Doran Martell.”

Your back straightened, and you almost choked on the wine. You knew exactly what your father was trying to do, especially if your name was involved. He was going to send you off to be married again, to someone completely unknown to you. 

“Doran offered up his brother, Prince Oberyn, to settle the disputes between our houses and-” You didn’t even let your poor brother finish before you were bolting across the woods. Your ears started to ring, not even hearing the leaves crash against you as you weave through the dark woods. 

You could see the large castle, the Red Keep, slowly becoming bigger in the distance. Your mind became riddled with swirling, enveloping thoughts. Cersei had always told you that all of Dorne were “savages,” despite never telling you why. Even the rumors and whispers that spread around the castle were the same; you had always heard that they were brutal and fierce. You knew of Oberyn’s nightly endeavors and ferocious attitude. You didn’t understand why your own father was marrying you off to a house that all of Westeros hated. 

You raced down the halls of the large castle, the guards kept yelling at you left and right, but you never paid attention. Your whole body halted as you reached his office, your head feeling dizzy and your mind clouded as you stared at your father. 

“Ah, just in time.” He gestures to you to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of him. You follow his orders, planting yourself in the one farthest away from him. You then notice his eyes scan you up and down, you yourself just now realizing that you still had much of your chainmail on. 

He pursed his lips before speaking, “As I’m sure you’ve heard, you are to be married off the day after tomorrow. You are to be wed here in King’s Landing, and then you shall ride back to Dorne.” He paid you no mind as he scribbled down on his notebooks; the quill was long and brightly colored. 

You scowled, your mind brazing with anger at his words. “Marry me off? I’m not some piece of cattle that you can do with as you please. I will not marry this Prince of Dorne.” He still didn’t look up to see the insidious look on your face, which only caused you more rage. You couldn’t marry someone you didn’t love; you refused it. 

“You will marry him because that’s what women do. They breed, and they birth. You are nothing but a wife to all of Westeros, and that is your purpose. Now, you will do as I say and-”

You stood up, the elegant chair screeching behind you. “No! I will not marry him, father! I refuse to marry into a home that I am not welcome in. I refuse to be relinquished of any freedom I have left.” You could feel your voice break as each syllable left your lips. 

Tears flowed freely now, sliding down your cheeks to your chin. You didn’t want to marry somebody you didn’t know—you couldn’t marry someone you had no ties to. Dorne wasn’t home. It wasn’t your life. King’s Landing and the Red Keep was your home. 

“I won’t do it. You cannot make me.” He finally looked up at you and carelessly tossed his quill on the table. He marched right up to you, eyes glaring into your soul. “Unless you want to end up on the streets and be tossed into a brothel to whore the rest of your life, you will be betrothed.” 

Hurt flashed across your face at his words, but you tried not to let it get through to you. You knew his insults were to jab at any kindness you had left. Although, you also knew the threat that was laced between his words. If you didn’t follow through, he would most likely order his own daughter to be a whore in some dainty brothel. 

“I have let you prance about for too long, girl. You are not getting any younger, and it’s preposterous that you haven’t bred an heir for us. This engagement is to pursue our houses to be one. You will not disappoint me.” Gods, you hated him. You hated your father since the day you arrived, and it only increased inside your heart as the many moons passed. You let your mind wander to your siblings, wondering what they would think of your and father’s actions. 

Deep grief set upon itself inside of you, your body slowly sitting back down on the chair. You were going to long for the way the bright orange sunset on valleys of the shore, or the way rain pitter-pattered on the roof of the Great Sept. 

Most of all, you were going to miss the atmosphere of it all. You would miss the way Brienne would pat you on the back after hard days of training. You were going to miss hearing your blade slice around you and clang against metal armor. You were going to miss getting drunk with your brother and laughing until the sun came up.

“Please, father. I-I can’t marry him. I’ll go down on my hands and knees.”

He looked down at you and sneered, “No Lannister should be caught dead on their hands or knees, you ghastly child. You are to be married, and that’s final. He’ll be arriving tomorrow, so you better be on your best behavior.”

He paused, making you listen even closer to every word. “And no more of that sword-fighting nonsense. You are a wife, not a knight.” He briskly walked out of his office, leaving you to cry and weep alone. Your heart broke into two at the thought of marrying this man; your body fell limp onto the chair. You felt control slip through your fingers, and you let acceptance climb into your chest. 

~~

Oberyn watched from the carriage as King’s Landing came into view. From there, the large walls and towering citadel looked small, just a minuscule place. His stomach churched with each trot of the horse, making the scene before him slightly bigger. 

He hadn’t been in this part of Westeros since Elia was betrothed to Prince Rhaegar before she had passed. His jaw clenched as he thought about the Lannister’s and the way Tywin brushed off her death. She had been poisoned, even her children, and the Lannister’s did nothing about it. No trial, no fight by combat, nothing—absolutely nothing. 

Doran had told him that this marriage was to settle any disputes, any quarrel with the two houses. Oberyn couldn’t do anything but scoff at his brother for thinking about trying to settle anything with the lions. 

But he begrudgingly agreed to this life of marriage with the young Princess of Casterly Rock and now the Red Keep. He knew it would sever ties and grasp on the air of peace around Westeros. His brother’s decision was definitely an intelligent one. He knew that your marriage to him was outright a political one, and the two of you would probably never love. 

However, Oberyn had a small twinge of hope that rested deep within his chest. He knew that this Princess was adopted, meaning she wasn’t really a Lannister. With your appearance alone, you were already strikingly different, at least that’s what the rumors say. Many murmured into his ear that you were treated like a castaway by your family but loved by the people of King’s Landing and people were never wrong. There had been whispers going around that you were quite the skilled fighter, and it struck hope into his heart. 

He knew that she just had to be different than the rest of her family. He hoped that you weren’t like your family, that you were different. A part of him was elated to find out.


End file.
